


Creosote

by siobhane (orphan_account)



Series: Castles In the Sand [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Execution, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mild Language, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 02:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/siobhane
Summary: Laguna loves an underdog. The former journalist in him loves a good scoop. Seifer Almasy, awaiting execution for war crimes in Esthar, is both. His interviews with both his estranged son and a self-proclaimed monster have unexpected consequences.Prequel to Don't Come Closer





	Creosote

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to read Don't Come Closer to understand this. I've had pieces of this finished since before I finished the main story. I'm looking at 4-5 chapters. I'm bad at estimating how long a story will be, but it's a kind of pesudo-NaNo project that should be done by the end of November. But mostly I just want it out of my head. Unedited and un-betaed.

 

He was just a boy.

That was the first thing Laguna Loire noticed about Seifer Almasy.

They told him the guy was a monster, a mass murderer, a madman, responsible for every bad thing that happened in the last six months. It was his fault the Sorceress Edea rose to power, his fault Adel fell from the sky and he was the reason Esthar lay in ruins above the surface, still overrun by monsters.

He'd hunted Ellone. Scarred and tried to kill the son Laguna only met for the first time a month ago.

But he was a baby. Not even nineteen yet, too thin, his eyes too bright to be totally sane, and so painfully  _young_.

Squall stood at the bars of Seifer's cell and watched his former classmate, his posture rigid and his chin held high, tense but unintimidated.

The boy had his mother's steely will, for sure, but little of her warmth.

Laguna only had himself to blame for that. He'd never gone back to Winhill. After he'd gotten the news of Raine's passing, he cut that piece of his heart out and stuffed it away somewhere, buried it deep, and rarely thought of it. It hurt too much.

And still, he missed Raine all the way down to the marrow of his bones. Squall being here now was like having that missing piece surgically reattached with a dirty, dull scalpel and stitched up with a pair of his old army boot laces.

Laguna hung back and stuffed his hands in his pockets as the boys stared at one another, waging a wordless, motionless battle of wits, neither willing to back down or look away first.

"So," Seifer said. "Is it a hemp necklace or paybacks?"

Squall crossed his arms.

"Paybacks?"

"D-District," Seifer said. "Bzzzt! Bzzzt!"

He mimed what Laguna assumed was a seizure. Squall's posture went even more rigid.

"Galbadia is pulling for firing squad," Squall said.

Seifer snorted and leaned his head back against the concrete wall. A ghost of a smirk twisted his features, but there was fear in his eyes. Fleeting, but there.

"Guess there's no point in asking for a trial."

"I'm working on it."

"Don't waste your time."

"We both know how it went down."

"Yeah, so what?" Seifer said. "You think anyone's going to give a shit about me? It'll be a dog and chocobo show at best."

"You didn't exactly do yourself any favors," Squall said. "Mayor Dobe's still in the hospital."

Seifer's smirk grew into a grin, but he looked tired. So very tired. Almost nineteen and already done with the world.

Better to accept it, Laguna supposed, than hold onto hope that fate would be kind and spare him. Galbadia was out for blood. The people of Esthar would happily see Seifer Almasy vaporized by lasers and shot into space.

He was staring at a dead man. Seifer might still have a heartbeat and a consciousness, but he was already dead. He just hadn't stopped breathing yet.

"Dobe did that to himself," Seifer said. "What kind of moron gets between SeeD and Galbadia and thinks either side will be placated by all that peace and love and hummus bullshit? He can shove his hippie pacifist nonsense straight up his ass."

Squall laughed softly and curled a hand around one of the bars of the cell. They were Laguna's hands. Musician's hands. Artist's hands. The hands of a man who might have done something else with his life if fate had allowed it.

So far, Squall's hands were the only piece of himself he'd seen in his son.

"Finally something we agree on," Squall said. He paused, shuffled his feet, and relaxed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fantastic," Seifer said. "Ten out of ten, would choose this cell over D-District's finest accommodations any day of the fuckin' week. You know they served me steak last night?" He laughed to himself. "Thought it might be my last meal before they strung me up."

Under Laguna's rule, Esthar treated their prisoners well, even prisoners who tried to set the whole world on fire. Adel was an exception.

"I'll do my best to see that doesn't happen."

"Yeah? Well, good fuckin' luck with that," Seifer said. "I've already been found guilty."

"Not by everyone."

"Yeah? Like who?" Seifer asked and closed his eyes. Squall didn't answer, and Seifer opened them again to stare at Squall. "You? Don't make me laugh."

Their history was written in subtext, in the things they did not say. Laguna, being more observant than anyone gave him credit for, picked up on something in the air, a story that had not been told. Truths that had been ignored or eclipsed by the scandal of it all. 

In that moment, Laguna was not a President or an important, powerful man, but a 27 year old who still believed the pen was mightier than the sword.

And he'd just stumbled upon the world's biggest scoop.

* * *

Squall couldn't sleep. The bed was too big. The Palace too quiet. Rinoa wasn't there to coax him back to sleep.

It wasn't Rinoa's absence keeping him awake, nor the bed or the silence around him. It was thoughts of Seifer, alone in his cell a quarter mile below, awaiting death without the benefit of insanity to distract him from it.

There was little Squall could do. SeeD was a neutral party and Seifer had once been affiliated with Garden. A paramilitary organization that fought for pay did not get a say in the matter. They were not involved in politics. All they were allowed was the option to claim the body once he was dead.

Squall knew without a doubt, Seifer was not entirely responsible for everything. He was less sure about whether or not Seifer was a willing participant, but he could not place the entirety of the blame on his shoulders without also blaming Edea.

Edea was not the one behind bars. She was holed up at the orphanage in Centra with Quistis and Rinoa. One her guard, the other her protege. If Edea's name came up at all in the news, she was spoken of as an unfortunate victim and a pawn.

Rinoa wasn't mentioned at all. 

Squall cursed and got out of bed. He pulled on a clean pair of tactical pants and a gray t-shirt and paced the room until he located his boots.

He had no idea where he was going. Not at this hour. The city beyond the Palace was a dangerous place. Monsters still roamed the streets and in some spots, some sort of magic had eaten right through the ground to the bedrock like acid. He'd heard reports of looters and bands of desperate citizens fighting over what supplies there were to be had.

SeeD was handling it, but their progress was slow going. Squall supposed he could join them and lend a hand, but he knew himself well enough to know he'd only be distracted, and distractions on the battlefield could prove deadly.

He wandered the halls until he found himself in the kitchens. His mouth watered at the scent of fresh coffee and his eyes teared up in the bright fluorescent lights, but he moved further inside, in search of a mug and liquid awareness.

Laguna sat at the far end of a long stainless steel prep table, half-hidden by a rack of pots and pans, hastily scribbling on a legal pad and muttering to himself. Squall considered turning around, but curiosity got the best of him.

Hard to believe the idiot from Ellone's dream magic might be his biological father.

Squall didn't know how to feel about that. A month had gone by and he was still no closer to knowing how to deal with it than he had been the day he figured it out.

To his credit, Laguna never broached the subject. He came up with reasons for Squall to stick around, up to and including his offer to house Seifer in Esthar along with a lucrative contract with SeeD to provide protection during Seifer's stay. But he never once said the words out loud.

It was just as well. Squall had lived this long without a father. He'd never known what that meant. It would be easier in the long run if Laguna never mentioned it.

"Hollow?" Laguna muttered to himself, "or gaunt?"

"What are you doing?" Squall asked, perhaps a tad too loud.

Laguna nearly fell off his stool, his arms flailing, and flung the legal pad and his pencil to the floor.

"Oh, I uh, just writing a... speech?" Laguna said. His face contorted and he clamped a hand around his calf. "What are you doing up this late?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Yeah, guess there's a lot of pressure on you," Laguna said. He bent down and picked up the legal pad. "I can understand that. When everyone's looking at you to do the right thing, it can be overwhelming."

Squall silently agreed. He was in the minority. Most of Garden sided with the rest of the world. They wanted blood as badly as the rest.

He found a clean mug in the dishwasher and poured himself a cup of strong black coffee from the pot. It was rich in flavor and almost scalding hot, and he drank half of it down in two swallows.

What now? What did he say to this man?

"I, um, I've been thinking about Seifer," Laguna said. "A lot."

"Yeah," Squall said. "Me too."

"You knew him pretty well?"

Squall rubbed the scar between his eyes. Seifer had his tells, but Squall couldn't honestly say anyone knew him well. Not even Raijin and Fujin knew what made him tick. Not all the way through.

"We grew up together."

"So you were friends."

"No," Squall said. "Why do you ask?"

Laguna massaged his leg again, then clicked the pen rapidly. Squall stared until he stopped.

"Intuition!" Laguna said, too cheerfully to be sincere. "There's a bug in the air and I'm gonna catch it."

Squall choked on his coffee.

"I don't know what that means."

"A long time ago, I was a part-time journalist - "

"I know."

"You do?"

"Ellone."

"She showed you all that?"

"Some of it," Squall said. He didn't mention the part where Selphie started collecting Laguna's old articles. "What's your point?"

"There's more to this than a kid soldier turning bad," Laguna said. "Amirite?"

Squall sipped his coffee. God, he wished Rinoa was here. She could have this conversation for him.

"I want to tell his story," Laguna said seriously. "The world should know the truth."

"What truth?" Squall wondered.

"Listen, we all know Galbadia makes stuff up, right?" Laguna said. "They turned him into some kind of monster-"

Squall set his mug down and leaned into the counter.

"That's because he is a monster," Squall said. "If he wasn't one before, he is now."

"You said he deserves a trial," Laguna said. "Part of you has to believe otherwise if you think that."

"I don't believe he deserves to be executed without all the evidence being presented in front of a court," Squall said. "My personal opinion of him doesn't matter."

"What _is_ your personal opinion?" Laguna asked and tapped the pen against his chin. "What really happened?"

Squall didn't have the patience for this. He had a ton of regrets about Seifer. There were a ton of good things he could say about his potential and talent. He could tell Laguna that growing up, Seifer was the closest thing he'd ever had to a brother, and that for all his bullying and competitiveness, there had been moments when Squall saw beyond the cocky exterior to the little boy who brought Matron flowers and fiercely defended Fujin when others teased her for her scars.

There was a story, just one he would rather not tell. And the Seifer Laguna might be looking for was long gone. In his place was someone else. Someone Squall no longer understood.

"Did he show any remorse down there tonight?" Squall asked. "An ounce of empathy for the people he hurt?"

Laguna blinked, surprised at Squall's outburst.

"Did he apologize for anything?" Squall asked.

"I guess not," Laguna said. "But he still might."

"He won't," Squall said. "Seifer never apologizes for anything. Ever."

Laguna nodded and scratched through something he'd written on his legal pad.

"Okay," Laguna said, "but it'll still make an interesting story. A journalist knows these things, and my gut's telling me this is a major scoop."

Squall dragged a hand over his face. It was too early for this, and Laguna was both an idealist and an idiot for bothering. Seifer Almasy was a lost cause. As much as Squall wished it wasn't true, his life would soon come to an end. One way or another, and no amount of sympathetic reporting would change that. The masses were hungry to see the villain vanquished.

After all, Squall had already broached the possibility that Seifer hadn't been in his right mind to the powers that be, only to have Seifer prove he was not only sane but aware of everything he'd done. No one wanted to hear that Seifer Almasy was a victim, even if only because Seifer refused to label himself as such.

"Do what you want," Squall said, "but you need to remember, you're the President of a country that was directly impacted by his choices, sane or otherwise. Your soft opinion will not be welcome."

"Of course it won't," Laguna said. "I'm gonna do it anyway."

"Fine," Squall said and picked his coffee up. "I'm not gonna stop you if you want to make a fool of yourself."

Laguna paled, then smiled.

"You just sounded exactly like your mother."

Squall pinched the bridge of his nose, set the coffee down again and turned on his heel.

"At least one of you was a rational human being," he muttered.

"I could tell you about her," Laguna said, "if you want."

Squall waved him off without looking back.

It was best not to know.


End file.
